


11 pm

by Iamtheoneandonly



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alexander cannot take care of himself, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Pre-Slash, Sleep Deprivation, Wine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-01
Updated: 2018-02-01
Packaged: 2019-03-12 07:21:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13542495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iamtheoneandonly/pseuds/Iamtheoneandonly
Summary: Alexander had hoped to spend his Friday night in the office catching up on work. But Thomas Jefferson just has to go and ruin everything.





	11 pm

Alexander can feel more than hear the presence at the open door of his office, he doesn’t bother looking up, most people are smart enough not to bother him when he’s in writing mode. They’ll go away soon enough.

“Hamilton, it’s eleven in the evening” Comes a melodic voice from the doorway, Jefferson, of course.

He barely holds back a groan, hoping against hope that Jefferson gets the hint and leaves him alone. He continues to type for another minute before deciding that he has no choice but to acknowledge the man.

“…is there a point coming up here or…”, He remarks snidely, not bothering to look up from the screen.

“Don’t act dense Alexander, it doesn’t suit you. I’m asking why you’re still here, it’s late”

He scoffs, “Well unlike some people Thomas, I actually have work to do. Not all of us can sit around with silver spoons up our asses”

Thomas sighs, “I seriously doubt Washington would want you here this late, on a Friday no less. Don’t you have better things to be doing?” 

Alex huffs and finally looks away from the screen and glares up at Thomas, “Nope I don’t, so if you would mind leaving me in peace to do whatever stuff you do on Friday nights…” He turns back to screen and goes back to typing furiously.

Thomas didn’t want to admit to Alexander that his plans involved no more than a nice bottle of wine and some trashy TV, he groans, “Jesus Christ Alex, do you ever fucking stop?”

“Nope” Alex tries mutters, stifling a yawn. He reaches up to rub his eyes in a way that Thomas refuses to admit is adorable.

Thomas sighs again, resigning himself to having to drag Alex out of the office kicking and screaming for his own good, God knows the man can’t look after himself. Sometimes he thinks it’s a miracle that Alex has made it this far in life without dying of malnutrition or exhaustion.

He places his coat and bag on the ground before he rounds Alex’s desk. He has the advantage of height as he reaches over and saves and closes the document Alex is working on before the sleep-deprived idiot in front of him can stop him.

“Thomas, what the fuck! You can’t just do that. I’m working!” Alex cries indignantly, trying to push Thomas away and go back to his work. He only succeeds in making Thomas chuckle.

He smirks and kicks a leg out, easily knocking the plug for Alex’s computer, killing the machine. It’s too easy to dodge the hands that are trying to get at him. He uses Alex’s momentum to drag him up from his chair and pin him against the desk.

“Calm down Alexander, I’m taking you home, you need food and sleep, in that order”

Alex twists in his grip, trying to get free,”Fuck you Thomas, I’m not a child, let me go”, it’s mildly amusing to watch as Alex scowls and huffs.

He raises his eyebrows as Alex’s outburst, “I’m not going to let you work yourself into an early grave because you don’t know when to take a goddamn break. For fuck’s sake Alexander, you look like you’re about to pass out. When was the last time you ate?”

Thomas doesn’t want to care about Alexander fucking Hamilton and his inability to take care of himself. But he has to admit the man’s brilliant, and he needs someone in the office whose on the same level as him. It would be so dull without Alexander around to argue with. Burr’s a poor substitute.

Alex finally gives up and slumps against the desk, glaring up at him, he crosses his arms and looks away, “You don’t have to worry about me you know, I get enough of that crap from Washington”

It’s hard not to laugh at Alex’s petulance, he smirks down at him and snorts, “Have you ever thought that maybe you get treated as a child because you act like one?”

He doesn’t wait from an answer, he releases Alex and snags his bag from the floor before heaving it onto his shoulder, striding away and back to his own things. Alex looks between him and his desk for a few moments before realising that he’s not going to be able to finish anything more tonight. Not when Thomas has decided that he’s going home whether he likes it or not. He huffs and picks up his phone before following after him.

He catches up with him at the elevator. Alex refuses to look at the man as they wait, still pissed about being forced away from his work. It’s not his fault inspiration tends to strike late at night. He would’ve gotten away with it too if Jefferson hadn’t still been there. Most sane people know to leave him the fuck alone. Evidently Thomas didn’t get the message, or he just enjoys seeing Alex suffer. Either is entirely plausible to Alex.

A thought occurs to him, “Wait, what are you still doing here then? Thought you’d have a hot date or something”

Thomas raises and eyebrow and looks down at him, smirking, “Wouldn’t you like to know Alexander?” Thomas teases, then his face turns serious, “But really, there was an issue with the office in Tokyo. Washington needed to get home to Martha so I offered to handle it. It took a little longer than expected”

“Huh, makes sense” Alex replies. What a perfectly mundane reason for being in the office this late.

The elevator finally arrives and they both step in, Thomas reaches across him to press the button for the parking garage. He tries to press the one for the ground floor entrance but is blocked by Thomas placing a hand over his, pulling him away.

“It’s late and you’re clearly exhausted, I’ll drive you home”

“I can take care of myself you know” He mumbles and Thomas laughs.

“Sure you can darlin’, I can see how that’s really working out for you” Thomas deadpans, shifting closer to him as the doors close.

Alex suddenly feels self-conscious of the bags that must surely be under his eyes, the way his suits hangs off him a little and the how his once-tidy bun has dissolved into a ratty mess over the day. Especially standing next to six foot something of perfectly groomed and tailored Jefferson. He sighs.

Thomas doesn’t comment, merely hums a little tune as the elevator descends, he’s still carrying both their bags Alex notices, but at this point he’s really too tired to care.

They emerge into the parking garage and Thomas strides over to a sleek black car that’s probably worth more than everything he owns multiple times over. He’s resigned to being escorted home by Thomas at this point as he wearily slides into the passenger seat. The seat is soft and leather and he gratefully sinks down into it. He barely notices as Thomas places their bags in the trunk and climbs in beside him. The soft purr of the engine as it starts up lulls him into a doze.

He wakes an indeterminate amount of time later as the car jolts to a stop, he blinks rapidly to try and clear fog from his mind. He doesn’t recognise this part of town, it’s certainly a lot nicer then where he lives. A wide street of well-kept limestone townhouses with manicured trees lining it. The place screams money, and of course Thomas would live here.

He’s interrupted from his thoughts by Thomas’ hand on his shoulder, shaking him gently, “Come on Alexander, out you get, unless you want to spend the night in the car”

“I thought you were taking me to my place” He mutters, “Not kidnapping me,”

Thomas laughs, “But you looked so peaceful, I didn’t want to disturb you. And I can guarantee that my guest bed is more comfortable than what ever monstrosity you usually sleep on, if you ever even use it”

He doesn’t give Thomas the satisfaction of telling him that indeed, his shitty Ikea mattress undoubtedly doesn’t live up to whatever fancy orthopaedic shit that Thomas likely has. He huffs and opens the door, climbing out onto the sidewalk and waiting for Thomas to grab their bags. He follows Jefferson up the marble steps and into the house.

His feet unconsciously carry him over to the huge couch in the living area, he slumps face first over it, his feet sticking off the end. He barely pays attention to Thomas moving behind him until there’s a gentle pair of hands slipping his shoes off.

He jerks up when he’s poked in the cheek a moment later, scowling as Jefferson smiles down at him shaking his head.

“Food first Alexander, then you can sleep” Thomas tells him, offering him a hand up. But Thomas doesn’t let go once he’s standing again, as he’s pulled along into the kitchen and told to sit on one of the stools at the island. 

Honestly, he’s a little confused. Sure he and Thomas have been getting along a lot better lately, their ‘debates’ have been a less heated and Washington hasn’t had to send them to different rooms to calm down quite as much. But this isn’t where he expected this to end, in Thomas Jefferson’s kitchen, watching the man prepare sandwiches for the both of them. No matter, he’s tired and hungry and it’s not worth the effort to argue right now. He’ll just deal.

They eat next to each other in silence, Alex can’t think of a time where he and Thomas have ever been quiet together. Washington would be proud of them. But Alex can’t resist riling Jefferson up just a bit.

“You make a mean sandwich Thomas, pity your political opinions are such trash” He remarks with a smirk.

Alex is expecting a scowl and sharp retort, as per usual, instead Thomas puts his sandwich down, throws back his head and laughs. He reaches over and wraps an arm around Alex’s shoulders, pulling him closer.

Thomas continues to laugh, “Oh Alexander, please never change!”

When Thomas releases his shoulders Alex is just plain confused, did he honestly just pass up a prime opportunity for a debate? He quietly goes back to his food.

Thomas clears up once they’ve both finished, putting the plates and glasses in the dishwasher and wiping down the surfaces. Once he’s finished, he pulls down two glasses from the cupboard and a bottle of white from the fridge. He says nothing as he pours two generous amounts and slides one over to Alex, which he gratefully takes. He takes a sip, he’s no expert, but it’s definitely good stuff, he wouldn’t expect anything less from Jefferson.

They end up sprawled across the couch together, in front of Thomas’ obscenely large TV watching Say Yes to the Dress, adding their own commentary as they make their way through the bottle. And if someone had told Alex he’d be laying on Thomas Jefferson’s couch, drinking wine and watching awful TV at one in the morning, he’d have thought they were crazy, and yet here they were.

Alex still isn’t entirely sure this isn’t some sort of hallucination brought on by not eating or sleeping enough. But at the moment he’s content to enjoy the peace.

Alex doesn’t remember dozing off, but he’s again shaken awake by Thomas, he tries to burrow back into the couch but Thomas is having none of it. He’s rudely hauled up into a pair of strong arms bridal style.

Alex yelps and flails, trying to get down, “Thomas, if you don’t put me down right the fuck now I swear to God I’ll burn that magenta sweater you love so much” he threatens.

While he continues to rant about the cruel and unusual punishment he’s definitely going to subject Jefferson to, Thomas has carried him up the stairs and along the hallway into what he presumes is the guest room, he’s quite literally dropped on the bed as Thomas stands above him.

“You know Alex, I much prefer you when you’re asleep, so much less bitching” Thomas remarks, before turning on his heel and striding out of the room, leaving Alex to wallow in the frankly ridiculous amount of pillows on the bed. Seriously? No one needs this many pillows.

Thomas was right about the mattress though, it feels like he’s lying on a cloud not an old lump like he has in his apartment. He wonders if he could have a few more sleepovers at Thomas’, just for the chance to sleep on something so soft. His back is gonna love him after tonight.

He’s interrupted from waxing poetic about the bed by Thomas’ return, he’s holding a small stack of clothes.

“I brought you something to sleep in,” Thomas explains, handing him the clothes, “There’s an en suite through that door over there,” He points to the corner of the room, “I think there’s everything you’ll need in there, but if you need anything else my bedroom is at the other end of the hall”

Alex nods and gratefully accepts the clothes; for all his shitty opinions, Thomas sure knows how to treat his house guests. Must be that Southern upbringing, Alex muses to himself.

“Thanks Thomas, I appreciate it” Alex tells him sincerely.

Jefferson smiles softly down at him, “You’re welcome Alex, it’s honestly no problem, you’re no fun to argue with when you’re exhausted” he says with a laugh, “anyway, it’s late, I’ll leave you to sleep. Goodnight Alexander” he adds with a nod.

“Goodnight Thomas” Alex replies, nodding at Thomas before he leaves.

He changes into the clothes Thomas gave him, the tee is way too long on him, reaching mid-thigh, the sweats pool around his feet and barely hang onto his thin hips, he decides the tee will be enough for tonight.

The en suite is glossy and modern, and of course Thomas’ guest bathroom would be ten times nicer than the one in his own apartment. He could most certainly get used to staying here.

He finds an unopened toothbrush and toothpaste under the sink and goes about his nightly routine. He combs his hair out and washes his face, grimacing at his sallow skin and the deep rings under his eyes. No wonder Thomas took pity on him.

It feels like heaven to climb between the cool sheets and lose himself in the mountain of pillows and blankets. He’s surrounded by the smell of fresh linen and something that’s uniquely Thomas, he breathes it in deeply before wrapping himself in the blankets and drifting off to an easy sleep.

—————

Alex wakes slowly, feeling more refreshed than he has in probably years, wrapped up in soft blankets with light streaming in through the open curtains. He scrunches his eyes closed and tries to burrow back down to try and get a few more hours of sleep in Thomas’ heavenly bed.

He’s disturbed from his efforts by the soft sound of the door opening and footsteps padding over to the bed. He rolls over and looks up to see Thomas standing holding a mug of what he prays to God is coffee.

“Good morning,” Thomas says lightly, offering the mug to him, “Well, good afternoon actually, I honestly didn’t think you could sleep for so long”

“Afternoon? Really? I’m normally up by eight on weekends” Alex remarks, lying back against the pillows as Thomas stands over him, smirking.

Alex untangles himself from the blankets and heaves himself up into a sitting position, gratefully taking the mug Thomas offers him, inhaling the sweet smell and taking a long sip, and damn, Thomas has some good coffee. He’s gonna have to find out what it is before he leaves. He moans in appreciation.

Alex is interrupted from his coffee worship by a scoff from Thomas above him, he scowls and glares at him.

“Only you Alex would let out such a pornographic moan at coffee of all things”

“Piss off, it’s good stuff” He huffs.

“It better be for the amount I pay to have it imported from France” Thomas muses with a smile.

Alex scowls, leave it to Thomas to import his coffee from France, the man’s got a massive raging boner for the country, almost as much as Laf loves America.

“Anyway,” Thomas continues, “I’m making lunch, or more accurately, lunch is being made for me. I hope Italian is alright with you?”

“Huh, I thought we’d be having French cuisine, you finally getting over the place?” Alex jokes, tasing an eyebrow.

It’s Thomas’ turn to scowl, “Shut up Alex, just because you could never appreciate such a classy place”

Alex laughs, “Whatever you say”

Thomas grabs his empty mug off the nightstand and spins on his heel to leave, he turns at the door, “Food should be here in half an hour. I’d say put on something more appropriate, but you wouldn’t know good fashion sense if it hit you in the face” He says before leaving and shutting the door behind him.

“Yeah well not all of us can afford tailor made suits you rich Southern prick!” Alex yells after him.

He throws the remaining covers off and stumbles into the en suite. After a quick shower and a poor attempt at taming his hair, he’s pulling on yesterday’s clothes and heading downstairs.

Thomas is sitting at the breakfast bar, scrolling through his phone, he grunts his acknowledgement at Alex as he takes the stool next to him, picking up the discarded newspaper and flicking through it.

He’s midway through an article on the latest bill going through Congress when the door-bell rings. Thomas slides off his stool and answers it, Alex hears a muffled conversation before the smell of food wafts over to him as Thomas carries in a large bag.

“Their Spaghetti Carbonara is to die for, and the garlic bread, it will change your life” Thomas tells him as he bustles about, tipping two containers of spaghetti into bowls and placing the garlic bread on the side.

Thomas isn’t wrong, it does taste amazing, and he almost lets out another moan before he remembers Thomas’ comment from earlier. He’d rather not give the man any more ammunition to embarrass him with.

Much like the evening before, they eat quietly next to each other, the silence only disturbed by the sound of cutlery on crockery. It’s nice and peaceful, Alex thinks, and when he looks across at Jefferson, he no longer see his self-proclaimed nemesis. He realises that over the last few months, his hatred for Thomas has softened and morphed into respect that Alex thinks could one day even lead to friendship.

If today and yesterday were any indication, he would say that Thomas felt the same, Alex surely would never have agreed to stay the night at Thomas’ even a month ago. Let alone get drunk watching trash and staying for lunch the next-

“Alex, is everything okay? You’ve been staring at me for ages” Thomas asks him, waving a hand in front of his face.

Alex starts and jerks back, almost falling off his stool were it not for Thomas grabbing his arm to keep him stable. He gives Thomas a nervous smile to reassure him.

“Sorry, I was just thinking” He shakes his head and picks up his fork, looking back down at his plate.

“When are you not thinking?” Thomas asks him with a laugh.

“I was thinking about how we’re getting along better, you know? Like I never would in a million years think I’d be here with you now when we first met” Alex muses quietly.

Thomas makes a noise in the back of his throat and smiles at him, “I suppose you’re right, I have to admit you are less annoying than you were a year ago, though not by much”

“And you’re not as much of a stuck up douche anymore, so I guess we’ve both improved as people”

Thomas raises his glass, “I dare say Alexander that this may be the start of a beautiful friendship”

Alex raises his in return and the clink glasses, toasting to themselves before going back to the amazing food. Alex is going to have to hit up whatever restaurant Thomas got it from, because this carbonara is worth whatever extortionate price it must cost.

After they’ve both finished, Alex insists on tidying up and making them both coffee, in return for Thomas’ hospitality.

They return to the couch with their mugs. They make small talk, which turns into maybe the politest debate they’ve ever had. Alex considers taping it to prove to Washington that they can behave like civilised adults around each other. It’s enjoyable, Thomas can always match him intellectually, and after half an hour, Alex feels refreshed and energised

It’s mid-afternoon and Alex decided he should head back to his apartment, he tells Thomas that he’ll get the subway but Thomas brushes him off and insists on driving him. He tries to protest that Thomas has done enough for him, but he quickly realises that this is one argument he’s not going to win. Stubborn bastard

Alex luxuriates in the soft leather seats again as Thomas drives. It’s amusing to watch his road-rage as he navigates the streets of New York.

Alex is acutely aware of how shabby his apartment block looks in comparison to Thomas’, it’s in a slightly more questionable part of town, and he’s almost sure his downstairs neighbour is growing weed.

Thomas pulls up outside the building and Alex climbs out, grabbing his bag from the trunk. He thanks Thomas from the open window and turns to head inside. Thomas calls him back.

“Alexander, what are your plans for next Friday?” Thomas asks him.

He shrugs, “Nothing important, why?”

“My place, seven, bring wine” Thomas tells him with a smirk.

Alex smiles back, “It’s a date,” he says jokingly.

It’s only when he’s walking up the steps as Thomas drives off that Alex realises just how much he wants it to be true.


End file.
